Robotech Snippets
by Doofus87
Summary: Little One off snippets that may or may not relate to my larger work. Just little snippets as I get the inspiration, or write up things from various prompts. Leave a suggestion in a review if you want.
1. Revelry

Propmt used: "What is your character(s) favorite celebration?"

* * *

Daniels flowed along with the rest of the pilots, both destroid and veritech. Happy, giddy chatter fires off from every face. As the crowd descended on the bar, the mood inside was traded from a quiet and intimate setting to a rousing party. Jokes were made, stories swapped, tales of the prior fight regaled with no small amount of exaggeration.

Despite not being a drinking man, Jeremy grins widely as he accepted the beers bought for him by the other pilots. Some for his help, others because they were too busy buying rounds to care. More RDF personnel filter in, support personnel, maintainers, ordinance techs, everyone that wasn't on duty swarmed with giddy energy. Daniels knew the same scene was happen all across the city, and the celebration began to catch with the civilians.

Jeremy leaned back, having pawned off his beer in exchange for a coke. He was content to watch as the bar patrons took to dancing, with the festivities rapidly spilling out onto the sidewalks, streets, and parks. The whole of Macross city was awash with revelers. A smiling woman made her way out of the dancing throng to Daniels' table. She asked, "What's the matter LT? Not gonna join in?"

With a shake of his head Jeremy replied, "Nah, I'm good Sergeant Quail."

The NCO dropped into one of the other chairs by the table, and Jeremy pushed one of the other beers he'd been given over to her. Quail asked, "You sure that's OK? We are technically still on duty."

"C'mon Janet, live a little. It ain't every day that we beat back an attack without any losses.


	2. Melancholy

Jason and Quail look at one another as they hear a melancholy tune coming around from the back of Daniels' house. They they walk around the brick house and see Jeremy sitting on his porch, guitar in hand and a bottle sitting beside him. The pair pause as the small man begins to sing off key.

Jason watches as his friend continues on his mournful, somber task. The words tug at the back of his mind as he tries to place the song. Quail meanwhile quietly approaches and slides into a chair on the deck, the lyrics Daniels sings haunting her mind.

Jeremy continues on, oblivious to his audience as he lets his emotions flow, tears occasionally tracking down his face. He smiles wistfully as he continues with his singing. Lost in his memories.

Jason contemplated interrupting Jeremy, wondering if he shouldn't try to pull the small Marine from his crestfallen state. He decides against it, and turns to leave, stopping as he sees Quail transfixed by the heartfelt, if poorly-sung, words.

Janet felt an ache as this man she... respected poured out his heart. Wondering if she shouldn't leave, to allow Daniels a measure of privacy. But she couldn't force herself to pull away. And her mind wandered back to her first meeting with Jeremy, as he fell from his cot, gripped in a nightmare.

JD allows his tears to flow freely as he finishes and sets his guitar aside. Taking a moment to compose himself, he takes up his bottle taking a long draw. As he stands to head inside, he sees the people he'd unknowingly given a performance to, and freezes even as his face flushes red. "Uh, Hey Jason, Janet, just how long have y'all been there?"

Quail clears her throat and averts her eyes, "A few minutes. You're not too bad on the guitar."

Jason sees his friends discomfort, "Though, don't take this the wrong way half-pint, your singing needs work."

Jeremy gives a half-hearted smile, "My sister was the one that could sing in the family. I'm lucky if I can carry a tune in a bucket. The guitar was something I picked to pass the time when I was deployed. I'm sure y'all know what that's like."

Jason nods knowingly, saying "Sorry for the intrusion. I'll see you around later LT." before walking off.

Quail continues to look off to the side and asks, "Who was she?"

"Who?"

"The woman you were singing about?"

Daniels forces a laugh, "Huh? Oh, ya got it all wrong. Just an old song from a group my daddy listened to when I was a little guy. Well, a littler guy."

Janet regards Daniels, not believing him. After a moment she stands up, saying, "If you ever want someone to talk to, I'd be glad to listen. Sir." before also walking away.


	3. Forcible Summon: Original

_The below is the original form of my first chapter from Sidesteps, which has been updated and stoutly expanded. I am posting the below so that the reviews of the chapter from before the revise date (24 June 2019) can be placed in proper context._

* * *

Jeremy Daniels stalks through his home, his irritation clear in the sound his boots made on the old wooden floors. Though Jeremy was now the only inhabitant of his family home, he spoke his frustration aloud as while going through the motions of packing for a trip.

"Dadgum, blasted, air-headed buffoons," Jeremy gripes as he grabbed the first two pairs of trousers he could reach and roughly shoved them into his rucksack, "First they tell me that I'm not qualified for the position because, 'You don't have the requisite experience in the field.' Then they add insult to injury with, 'You should have done an unpaid internship.' Yeah, like my tuition and bills were just gonna be magically taken care of. And of course my time in the Corps doesn't count. Not like the Logistics and infantry MOSes both have accounting and auditing aspects to 'em. Feh." continuing with his complaint while depositing some shirts, socks, and skivvies into his ruck before loading up on toiletries, "And if not that then, 'We're sorry, you are overqualified for this position.' Damned if I do, damned if I don't I reckon."

"Well, a few days of some riding up in the mountains ought to make me feel less ornery," Jeremy thinks to himself before mentally adding with a laugh, "And it's gonna be a bit more productive than chasing after jobs with over inflated requirements." his laughter stops abruptly as his hand reaches for a simple oak box, pausing to uncertainly tap the lid with his fingers. After a few moments he lifts it up and places it into his bag with far greater care than he'd shown with the rest of his belongings. He murmurs to himself, "A promise is a promise."

Jeremy slings the rucksack over his shoulder before he reaches up for one last item. Taking a hold of the grip, he pulls down his fathers old 1911 pistol. Shaking his head Jeremy corrects himself mentally, "No, it's mine now, not dads." Taking the firearm, Jeremy drops and checks that the magazine is loaded before seating it back in place. Sharply pulling the slide back, Jeremy looks to ensure that the magazine was in place before releasing the slide so it slams back into battery with a fresh round in place. After a quick flick of his thumb to place the safety lever back on, and Jeremy slides the sidearm into it's resting place at his side in a holster underneath his jacket. With one more check to make sure he had his wallet and keys, JD locks the front door. With a deep breath he says out loud, "Well, enough dicking around. Might as well get rolling." before heading out the back.

Pulling the back door closed sharply with Jeremy locks it as well, as he tries to will himself to relax. As he strides off the deck over to a small shade tree that his motorcycle rested under, taking a few deep breaths to calm down. Tugging his leather jacket close over his t-shirt against the brisk February morning. Jeremy plucks his helmet off of the sissy bar and dons it. Checking yet again that his rucksack is secure over his shoulders. Clicking his boot heels together in his silly little pre-ride dance, Jeremy throws his leg over the Harley-Davison sportster, another inheritance from his late father. Settling onto the small seat, Jeremy prepares to start the bike.

Suddenly Jeremy feels the air charge with static, the hairs on his neck and arms all bristling in response. Jeremy thinks to himself, "What the devil? There ain't a cloud in the sky, no way there's a thunder head rolling in..." the thought is cut off as the world turns psychedelic colors. And Jeremy feels as if his body is being shredded from the inside out, his last thought before falling unconscious is to scream at the top of his lungs as reality seems to have turned inside out.

* * *

As Jeremy came to his head throbbed fiercely, "What the devil was that?" he thought. As he regained his senses he felt every part of his body both feeling aflame and numb like he'd just got hit by a taser. After several long seconds Daniels' brain started to pay attention to what his ears were passing along and he stiffened as several different voices flowed in.

"Ugh, can we not do that again?" Said one woman's voice

"Captain Gloval, there's someone over here." Came another.

"I wonder who he is." came a third, this one sounding more naive and innocent.

Then a rougher, deep bass tone, "That's what I want to know Lt. Porter. Claudia, Lisa, you have any idea?"

A pair of women, Jeremy assumed the ones the Captain had addressed, responded with a negatory.

Jeremy groans again as he tried to push himself into a fully seated position, the slump he was in playing havoc on his neck, "Uh, what's going on? Where am I?" he says. His jacket falling open from his motion.

As Jeremy opened his eyes, he sees what happened next as if in slow motion. A uniformed woman, elfin and dark haired, nearly jumped from her seat while barking out, "He's got a gun!"

Claudia reacted first, snatching a sidearm from her thigh holster and leveling it at Jeremy, who threw his hands up and pleaded, "Non-hostile, non-hostile. I am not a threat." The muzzle of the pistol, though Jeremy knew logically that it had to be 9mm or smaller, seemed to rival that of a tank cannon. Placatively, the small man offers, "Hey, look, I'll gladly disarm if that means not getting shot."

The female officer looks to Gloval, who nods in assent. Jeremy with an exaggerated slowness reached and carefully and drew his 1911 with just his thumb and index finger. Careful to keep the muzzle pointed to the deck, he released the magazine, pulling it free before laying the magazine on the deck. After that Jeremy racked the slide and locked it open. The .45 ACP round danced across the floor before Jeremy placed the sidearm on the deck as well and used the heel of his boot to slide the pistol and magazine over towards the Captain while keeping his hands to the 'surrender' pose he was assuming. "See? everything's all nice and ducky. Right?"

Kim quickly collected the firearm which allowed Jeremy to let out a quiet sigh as Claudia lowered the pistol she was aiming at his chest. Captain Gloval spoke in his thick Russian accent, "So, mister stowaway. Would you mind showing us your face?"

Jeremy thought for a moment about making a funny comment, but as tense as things were, he opted for modicum of restraint. "Of course, Cap'n... uh, Gloval. Right?" he said slowly pulling the helmet off to reveal his scruffy beard and short crop of black hair. Trying to offer a disarming grin the the small man said "The name's Daniels. Jeremy Samuel Daniels, uh, at yer service I reckon."

"What is your ID code Mister Daniels?"

Jeremy screwed up his face in confusion, "My what now?"

The captain sighed, "Your personal identification code. I would like to confirm that you are who you claim to be."

Jeremy shrugged, "Uh, I don't rightly got one sir."

Sammy scoffed, incredulous, "You don't have one? That's impossible."

Gloval shot over a quieting glance, "Mister Daniels, I find that hard to believe. Surely you have some means of allowing us to confirm your identity in our systems. Otherwise, I am afraid that we will have to presume that you are a AUL saboteur."

"Whoa, whoa. Captain, I ain't no saboteur, 'specially not one aligned with whomever the AUL is. I promise you that on my honor as a Marine."

Gloval cocked his head to one side, "Marine?" Jeremy nodded in the affirmative which prompted Gloval to continue, "Well, what's your serial number?"

Jeremy made a quiet, "Huh" before rattling off his serial number from memory. Gloval nodded at Lisa who entered the provided number into her terminal and waited for the record search to bear fruit. When the computer finally displays the record associated with Daniels' serial number, Commander Hayes blanches, "Captain, that ID number does belong to a Daniels, Jeremy Samuel."

Gloval harrumphs, "So, this stowaway is who he claims to be."

Lisa takes a sharp breath before continuing, "But sir, according to our records. Jeremy Samuel Daniels is dead. And has been for nearly 3 years."

* * *

Silence weighed heavily over the bridge from Lisa's statement. As Jeremy's mind raced as he tried to make sense of the impossibility of the situation he found himself in.

Gloval scowled at the small man, "Enough with the funny business, who are you really?"

Jeremy held his hand out to the side, concern clearly etched on his face, "Whoa, Captain, hold on a minute. I ain't doing no sorta funny business here. I am Jeremy S. Daniels, son of Lucas and Valarie Daniels, brother of Michael Daniels and Caroline Avery. Born, raised, and living in South Carolina. And I am not any happier to hear that I am listed as deceased, than you are to have found me as an unwitting stowaway on your vessel."

Gloval narrowed his eyes at Jeremy, who, to his credit, was holding up under the withering glare. After several long seconds, Gloval looked over to Lisa with the implied question. Commander Hayes nodded, "That all matches what we have on file sir. There are several photos as well."

Gloval nods before ordering Jeremy, "Stand up." Jeremy offers a short nod before pulling his arms free from his rucksack. Grasping the edge of a console, the small man levers himself up so he can get his feet under him. Taking a moment to be sure he is steady, Jeremy turns to face Commander Hayes for her appraisal.

"Hmm, right height, hair color matches, as does the eyes. Looks a bit heavier than the listed weight." Jeremy bites back a snide retort at that comment as Lisa continued, "And the pictures looks to be close enough, even if the alleged Mr. Daniels looks far scruffier than what we have on file."

Jeremy grumbles quietly, "'Scruffy looking' she says, oi. Can't catch a break." Eliciting a snicker from Kim and Vanessa, and another stern look from Gloval. Jeremy's brain finally catches up to reality and he gapes, looking out of the conning tower, "Dear heavens... We're in space."

Gloval softens his glare slightly, "Yes, we are. Vanessa, get some security personnel sent up here to escort out guest to the brig while we sort things out."

Vanessa nods and offers a curt "Aye aye." as she makes the call. Sammy speaks up, "But sir, the brig hasn't been built yet."

Jeremy chuckles and remarks, "Heh, all you need for a brig is a door that locks from the outside, and a guard to post beside it."

Gloval's glare hardens again, "Very astute Mr. Daniels, that is exactly what is going to happen. I'd appreciate it if you cooperated with us." Jeremy nods and reflexively says "Aye aye Cap'n."

Suddenly, the ship is rocked by an explosion Lisa calls out, "Sir, there are still aliens in the city." Jeremy's eyes bug out even as the bridge crew returns to action, guiding the veritechs and destroids in defense of the vessel. Edging back into the corner where he awoke, Jeremy roughly drops onto his haunches and sits down tucking his hands under his thighs. Gloval nods appreciatively before focusing on the crisis at hand.

* * *

Jeremy leaned back, the cool metal bulkhead sucking the heat through the thin insulation of his t-shirt. Looking around the room for the umpteenth time, he idly counted the shelves of the supply closet appropriated to act as his interim holding cell. Sighing, Jeremy attempted to adjust his zip-cuffed hands behind him into a more comfortable position. "Oh well, can't complain too much. Better than takin' a space walk I reckon. And still bigger than my berth on that LCS."

"Good to hear that you're finding out accommodations to your liking." Jeremy jumps at the unexpected address as Gloval walks into the room. Offering a wry grin Jeremy says, "What can I say Cap'n, I was infantry. Some o' the places I had to rack out in were little more'n a rat hole. So, since you're here, I'm guessing that the little green men have been run off, and either you wanna ask me some questions. Or you're about to toss me overboard. If it helps any, I am quite partial to having a nice chat, sir."

Gloval allows himself a brief throaty laugh, "Mister Daniels, I see that you have the traditional Marine bravado act mastered. If I didn't know better, I'd say you weren't even worried."

Jeremy just shrugs, "Well sir, to be honest, if our positions were reversed I dunno that I'd have been near as gracious as you're being. You've not done anything unreasonable given the circumstances. And bitching at you isn't liable to help my case."

Gloval just shakes his head, "Bozhe moi. Mister Daniels, we seem to be in a conundrum regarding you. All the documentation you had on you, and the material you were carrying all points to you being who you claim to be."

Daniels offers, "Who is listed as being dead."

Gloval nods, "Exactly. And given our present location out near Pluto's orbit verifying who you are with your family is not an option. We dont' even have contact with the UEG."

Jeremy snorts, "You'll find that checking anything with my family is gonna be an exercise in futility. Only one alive is my sister, and if I was dead, I bet she'd not even have noticed."

Gloval picks up Jeremy's wallet from a table that had all of the smaller man's carried possessions laid out on it. Opening the wallet Gloval pulls out a card,"You said that your parents were Lucas and Gayle Daniels, da? They're listed as alive, living at the address on this permit of yours. Your siblings are also alive, and living in the same general area as your parents."

Leaning forward intently, eyes wide, Jeremy asks, "You're not messing with me here? They're really alive?"

"As far as we know, your family is alive, Mr. Daniels. You really thought them dead?"

Jeremy forces his way up awkwardly, shimmying his back along the wall until he could stand, "First off, you can call me Jeremy, or JD. Never liked going by mister anyway. Second, yeah I thought them dead. At least my brother and parents. Seeing as I not only attended their funerals, but I had to ID my brother or what was left of him." Daniels begins to tear up, "Look Cap'n, please, you gotta let me talk with my family. I'm begging you here."

Gloval sighs and shakes his head, "I can't do that I'm afraid."

"What?! Look I ain't asking you to trust me, or to buy my story. But, I've not talked with my brother in over 5 years. My parents in nearly a decade. Surely you..."

Jeremy is cut off by Gloval snapping, "It is not a case of my choosing not to allow it. This ship is cut off from Earth. Even if we were to send a transmission, there is no guarantee that it would be received. And worse yet, we have cause to believe that the aliens who attacked us are still out there, and likely to be trying to find us."

Jeremy, feeling thoroughly chastised, slumped back against the wall, "And thus any broadcast would also light us up if they are looking for us. My apologies sir. It'll not happen again."

Gloval, for his part, offered Jeremy a small smile, "It's understandable. Still I need you to come with me, I've explained your claims and situation to my chief engineer, Dr. Lang. He is keen on talking with you."

Jeremy pushed himself off the wall again, "Sure thing Cap'n, a nice bit of conversation will be a great way to cap off this day of mine, don't ya think?" falling in step behind the Russian man, as the Marine guards take up flanking positions to Jeremy.


	4. Little Stompy Robots

"So, let me get this straight, in our off time from piloting big stompy robots-"

Lundsford sighs "Really JD, you promised you'd stop calling them that in public."

Daniels pauses for a moment before revising his statement, "From piloting our giant mecha destroids. You're getting some guys together to play a tabletop game, wherein we pilot bi- more giant battlemechs. In a future where everything has gone to hell in a handbasket. Replete with obscenely powerful and further ridiculous weaponry all intent on savaging other enemy mecha."

"That about sums it up. Though there's plenty of backstory fluff that you're glossing over."

"Oh sure, because all the political machinations of the surviving human groups are going to be of interest to your average grunt. Pilot. Mechwarrior. Whatever."

"So, are you interested?"

Jeremy grins "Are you kidding Jason? When do we kick this off?"

* * *

That following Saturday, Lundsford met with Daniels, Fokker, and a handful of other people just outside of one of the rec rooms on base. With surprisingly PO2 Randall sitting at the head of the table with the splat books and a typical game master screen set up. The NCO smiles wide "Hey everyone, glad you all could make it. Now the plan for what I'm running, given the wide range of skill with the game system, is for everyone to have their own battlemech. And all of you will be operating as a group, a lance for you newbies. If you take a look at the handouts, I detail what mechs are readily available. With some suggested loadouts. Though for who gets what roles, we'll settle that by drawing straws."

The men gather around, each pulling a rolled piece of paper from a plastic cup in turn. Daniels unfurls his while Fokker asks, "So, what does it mean that I'm the assault mech?" Looking at his own slip of paper while Randall explains the types of battlemechs to the rest, Jeremy works to decide on which heavy mech he would have his pilot field. "So, I see that we have a bunch of clanner options."

Randall nodded, "This is set just after Tukayyid, so the Inner Sphere has gotten some stuff due to salvage. I thought you said you hadn't played before?"

"I never played _Battletech_ , I did putz around with a few spinoffs though. And read a book or two as well. So, any objection to me getting the Timberwolf?"

* * *

After going through the setup, and finally settling on a name for their merc company, the newly minted mechwarriors soon found themselves knee deep in trouble. They'd been out on a patrol when a 2 lances of 3 mechs blundered across the Macross Malcontents. Luck had not been on the side of the Malcontents and while they'd managed to knock out 3 of the hostile 'mechs, Travis in his Dervish had been knocked out, and Yeager had punched out of his Jenner when he took a pair of PPCs to his center torso, sending his reactor critical. Jason was putting his Warhammer to good use well to support Roy Fokker who was their heavy hitter in the Battlemaster. While Rodney was moving in the Hunchback to support Daniels in his Timberwolf from one of the enemy mediums.

"Jace! Look out, that Black Knight is pushing on your flank!"

Jeremy grunts as he pushes his mech to the limits turning to track the an enemy Catapult lining up for a missile salvo on Roy. The armor was still glowing from the last hits of Daniels' medium LASERs. He lines up the shot, breathes out and squeezes the trigger.

"You missed."

Jeremy looks at Randall, "What? Come on. He's only 150 meters away. I know I can make that shot!"

Leeroy gestures at the dice, "Sorry boss. You made a called shot, as you were maneuvering severely, on a running target. And you didn't roll high enough."

The entire table groans before returning to playing out the battle.


	5. Alert Launch

**A/N: As I am having (per usual) a bear of a time trying to get the next chapter together. Have a sneak peek at a future scene from Sidesteps.**

* * *

Roy clenches his hands as he impatiently waits for the elevator to deliver Skull-1 to the flight deck of the Prometheus. It had already been ten minutes since the last contact with Vermillion flight and the Cats Eye, and optical monitoring tracked potential weapons fire from near their patrol route. Kicking himself for not insisting that he lead the initial patrol himself, Fokker goes over his pre-flight checklist once again, biting back his initial reaction to snap at the deck crew to move faster.

"Skull lead, pit crew here. Bad news."

Roy clenches his jaw "What's the problem Pit Crew?"

"Oh five is only putting out 30% thrust from her starboard engine. And I think we have a leak in the RCS. Gotta down check her. Next bird we could get ready'll take 20 mikes. You going to wait?"

"Negative on that. Break. Gunsight, this is Skull lead."

Roy takes some solace in hearing Claudia's voice come through the radio "Skull lead, Gunsight one. Send traffic."

"Pit crew informed me that we are down one bird. We are launching with the other 5. How copy?"

"Solid copy on that fly boy. Go bring our lost chicks home."

Roy grins widely as his shoulders relax, the anxiety bleeding away from the calm demeanor of his paramour "I intend to. Didn't you set up a blind date for Lisa tomorrow? can't have her miss that."

"Good hunting Skull. Cleared to launch."

Roy swaps back to Prometheus' flight control as he cycles the flaps and ailerons to allow the crew to give him the go ahead to prepare as the Valkyrie is loaded onto the port most catapult. With a thumbs up from the deck chief, and flight control giving him the go ahead, Fokker grabs onto the brace handles and clamps his teeth together in anticipation of the cat stroke that would hurl his plane into the dark black.

As the Valkyrie hurtles off the deck, Roy sinks into the thin padding of his seat. Once the inertia evens out between him and the plane, he keys over to the squadron frequency, "OK. Four, Six, it's just your two for now. Be extra careful watching each other's backs. Two and Three, you both know the drill. Stay on me, and let's go get our people home."


End file.
